


alis ad astra noctem

by sanguine_puddles



Series: birbs [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anger, Banter, Cuddles, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other, Sharing a Bed, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, and prompto angst, at the very end, got some father-son angst, it's a wingfic!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguine_puddles/pseuds/sanguine_puddles
Summary: Noctis leans forward, huffing, grips the railing of the balcony with his left hand. In his right he clutches his phone and fumes at the article on screen.Sleek, iridescent feathers flare and twitch behind him as his irritation grows.He grits his teeth andgrowls, throws the phone at his couch andleaps.The wind rips at his clothes and skin as gravity drags him towards the ground below. He soaks in the brief thrill of falling before pumping his wings to the heartbeat pounding in his ears.Flying always drains some of the tension Noctis is strung with, no matter the circumstances.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: birbs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602277
Comments: 4
Kudos: 135





	alis ad astra noctem

**Author's Note:**

> i really love wingfics and this took me far too long write (two months) considering it's length, but oh well at least i got it done,,
> 
> this is unbetaed, please excuse any sneaky mistakes (´-﹏-`；)
> 
> ALSO this can be read as romantic or queerplatonic! ~~i feel like most of my fics end up on the queerplatonic side of things~~
> 
> and one of my playlists because i feel like sharing: [prompto (promptis)](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/00Gdg5M7e3Uv4wM3tOEtOy?si=4KSt7DsvQs2XrYIOA_R7fg)
> 
> i hope you enjoy it! <3

Noctis leans forward, huffing, grips the railing of the balcony with his left hand. In his right he clutches his phone and fumes at the article on screen. 

Sleek, iridescent feathers flare and twitch behind him as his irritation grows. 

He grits his teeth and _growls_ , throws the phone at his couch and _leaps_. 

The wind rips at his clothes and skin as gravity drags him towards the ground below. He soaks in the brief thrill of falling before pumping his wings to the heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

Flying always drains some of the tension Noctis is strung with, no matter the circumstances. 

His wings reflect the late afternoon sun and every cut through the air leaves behind pale blue, crystalline shimmers that fade every other beat. 

He pays no mind to the early winter chill. 

He just _flies_. 

It's dusk by the time he lands on his balcony, skin glistening and body trembling from exhaustion. 

Noctis drags his feet through the open glass door, slides it shut, and collapses onto the floor. 

His wings lie numb around him and his muscles spasm as he pants. He squeezes his eyes shut against frustrated tears. 

A loud _clink_ followed by the rustling of feathers echoes throughout the apartment. 

Noctis presses his face into the carpet of the floor, wraps his arms around his head in a feeble attempt to hide. 

"Noctis." 

_Ignis_ , he thinks sardonically. 

He curls his arms tighter. 

Ignis sighs. "His Majesty would like to know if you are going to attend dinner." 

Noctis folds in on himself, grabs fistfuls of his hair. His breath stutters. 

There's a long moment of silence before Noctis feels a faint woosh of air as Ignis crouches next to him. Deft hands slide over his wings, pressing deep into the muscle, and he shudders as they lose some of their tension. 

"Can you get Prom?" he slurs. 

Prompto always lights up a room with his presence. All bright smiles, fidgets, and comfort. 

Ignis hums. "I will inform His Majesty that you wish to cancel." He digs his fingers into some knots, making Noctis flinch, before retracting and typing into his phone. The phone vibrates and Ignis says, "He understands that you may be stressed and busy with school and the recent press topics." 

Noctis scoffs as he drags his hands down his face to settle on his neck. 

"Would a phone call suffice?" 

Noctis frowns as he draws blank on what Ignis is asking. 

Ignis shifts until he's cross-legged in Noctis' line of sight, elegant brown wings raising to form a barrier around them. "You wanted Prompto, no?" 

Noctis stares at the soft carpet floor, presses his fingers to his pulse. It's still rabbiting from his flight. He doesn't notice how his nails dig into his skin until Ignis grabs his right wrist and tugs it away. 

Noctis closes his eyes and grunts. 

Ignis rubs lines over the wrist still in hand. He dials Prompto's number with his free hand and puts it on speaker. 

The dial tone rings a few times before there's a click as the line connects. 

"Iggy! What's up?" 

Prompto's voice alone is enough to make Noctis go completely slack. His exhaustion crashes into him. 

"Prompto. Are you busy at the moment?" Ignis asks. 

"Ah, no, I just got done for the day." 

"Would you be willing to come to Noct's apartment?" 

There's shuffling on Prompto's end and he worriedly asks, "Right now?" 

"Yes. He asked for you." 

Noctis can distantly hear the sound of a door opening and closing, the rumble of engines from the cars of people no-doubt heading home from working nine-to-five shifts. He moves a bit to see under Ignis’ wings and look out the glass doors. The stars are beautiful. 

Prompto huffs. "Why didn't he just text me? Is something wrong?" 

Ignis squeezes Noctis' wrist, for his own comfort or Noctis', neither know. "You could say that. He's acting rather… _sensitive_ right now." 

Noctis wrinkles his nose at that. He opens his mouth to bite back, but Prompto speaks before he can. 

"Oh! What… What happened?" 

"I'm not quite sure. Though I suspect it has something to do with his father." 

Noctis scowls. 

“Ah.” 

Ignis startles when a loud honk and muffled, _“Sorry, sorry,”_ carries over the speaker. “Prompto?” 

Prompto sounds short on breath after an excruciating long moment when he says, “I’m alright. Just, y’know, rushing.” 

“You needn’t ru—” 

Prompto’s yell of, “I’m here!” echoes as he gets inside. 

Ignis draws his wings to his back and looks at Prompto with concealed surprise. “That was quick.” 

Noctis turns to see Prompto give a thumbs-up as he ends the phone call, halfway to panting with flushed cheeks. Noctis breathes deep, takes in Prompto’s appearance: the ruffled hair, ragged oversized hoodie, dark jeans, and combat boots. 

His presence is like the sun after a rainy day to Noctis. His presence helps him forget all that was ever wrong. 

_He’s gorgeous._

_And I'm ridiculous._

Noctis shifts to lie on his back, wings spread flat, one grazing Ignis’ legs. He makes grabby hands towards Prompto and hears a giggle in response. 

Ignis brushes a hand over Noctis’ forehead, scattering his bangs, and rises, muttering something about making some tea. 

Prompto drapes himself on top of him and smiles. “You doing alright?” 

Noctis rests his hands on Prompto’s lower back. He seems to fight with himself until he admits, “Not really…” 

Prompto pouts. “You wanna talk about it?” 

Noctis grunts, pulls Prompto tighter against him. “Someone posted a stupid article online talking about how weak the king is becoming and theorizing about when I’ll be crowned. It just... made me snap. That _fucking cane_ ; it makes me angry every time I see him. 

"It sucks that the Astrals _blessed_ us with the Crystal and that _ring_ to insure that the Lucis line protects the Lucian kingdom! It’s gonna send us to early graves!” He pauses to take a deep breath. “I just think it's bullshit." 

They’re both blinking hard to ward off tears and Noctis sighs. He runs a hand through Prompto’s blond hair. “Everything comes with a price, huh?” he whispers. 

“Yeah…” Prompto chokes out. “Something divine is bound to have a hefty cost.” 

They lie in silence for a while, with Prompto’s face hidden in Noctis’ neck and Noctis’ hand playing with Prompto’s hair, until Ignis calls for them to sit at the island. 

Noctis squeezes Prompto when he tries to get up. “Don’ wanna.” 

Prompto squirms in his grip and whines, “ _Noct_.” 

Noctis huffs and groans, but lets Prompto scramble his way to the aromatic tea. 

He hauls himself up, stretches his arms above him and wings behind him. He makes his way to his own mug and settles on a stool. 

Ignis’ phone vibrates and whatever he sees on the screen makes him huff a small laugh. 

“Specs?” Noctis asks. 

“It seems that sense your plans have been cleared, so have mine. Gladio would like to, in his words, ‘Wine and dine with a side of choice theatre.’” 

Noctis lets himself smile behind his mug. “You should take him up on that.” 

“Yeah!” Prompto shouts. “Go spend the night with your mans.” 

Ignis nudges his glasses, a faint blush riding his cheekbones and wings drawn tight against his back. “If you insist… There is some food in the fridge if either of you are hungry.” 

And he collects his belongings, leaves with a soft, “Goodnight.” 

Noctis drinks the rest of his tea in one big gulp then turns to Prompto. "Are you done?" 

Prompto stares into his half-empty mug. He hums and leans on the counter as he hands it to Noctis. 

Prompto watches as Noctis’ wings sway with his hips as he walks. He’s long gotten used to the yearning deep in his chest, pushes it down whenever it threatens to rise, but he can’t help the occasional wave of want. 

Like right now as they both startle when Noctis’ hand slips and drops the mugs into the sink. Noctis’ wings puff up and give a few stuttering flaps, ready to dart him away in any case of danger. 

Pins and needles dance on Prompto’s back. 

Noctis’ wings droop as he sighs in defeat. He turns to Prompto with a sheepish smile, holds up the mug Prompto used in both hands. It rests in pieces, dripping tea, in his palms. “I cracked it…” 

“ _Cracked_?” Prompto asks incredulously. He tries to hide a smile behind a hand, but can’t help the giggles that slip. “Ignis is gonna be _so_ disappointed.” 

“ _No_ ,” Noctis whines. 

Prompto snorts. “ _How_ many dishes have you broken?” 

Noctis groans and his wings puff up again, face screwed up in an attempt to hold back his own giggles. “ _Too_ many!” 

They hang in a short silence before bursting into wheezing laughter. 

It wipes out most of the tension left over from Noctis’ tantrum and when they can finally breathe again, Prompto goes in for the kill. 

“Noctis?” 

Noctis looks up with twinkles in his eyes and Prompto suddenly dreads what he’s about to suggest. 

“You should…” He rubs the back of his neck, forces himself to meet Noctis’ eyes. “You should talk to your dad.” 

Noctis tenses right back up, his wings raising and arms crossing. He cringes. “Prom—” 

“No, Noct, you need to hear me out,” Prompto interrupts. He bristles with a sudden rage, ire from somewhere he recognizes as his own demons. “ _Tell_ him that you’re angry and _tell_ him _why_! You can’t avoid him forever no matter how hard you try! Remember how that turned out with me!?” 

Noctis flinches. He remembers perfectly. 

Remembers how Prompto had avoided him for days after he cautiously asked why he never shew his wings. 

Remembers how he had finally had enough and had to intricately pry Prompto from his newly guarded shell. 

Remembers the onslaught of insecurities and his frantic rush to soothe them. 

Remembers how achingly long it felt trying to get Prompto to finally speak up. 

Remembers the grotesque truth that was revealed that night. 

Prompto barrels on. “Your relationship with him is already so fragile! You need to communicate better! Yes, it’s hard to talk things through! But _how_ do you expect things between you two to get better if you _don’t_?” His eyes shine. 

Noctis hugs himself. “It’s… It’s hard,” he protests weakly. 

Prompto snorts humorlessly. “Yeah, no shit,” he says as he wipes at his eyes. “That’s life.” 

Prompto takes a deep breath and walks to stand in front of Noctis, sets his hands on his crossed arms. “You’re allowed to be upset. You’re allowed to be angry. But you _need_ to resolve the issue properly. You’re mad because the Astrals are asholes and you get reminded about it every time you see your dad, right? Tell him about it, he’ll probably agree. This is just the way things are.” 

Noctis makes a frustrated noise, unfolds his arms and wings to wrap them around Prompto. “I don’t like it.” 

“You don’t have to.” Prompto hugs Noctis back. “Just don’t go making a big deal out of it left and right." Prompto wraps his arms tighter. "Will you talk to your dad?” 

Noctis is silent for long enough that Prompto thinks he isn't going to answer, but then he sighs heavily. “...I’ll tell Ignis to schedule a dinner somewhere.” 

“Good.” 

Noctis hums. "Are you hungry?" 

He shrugs. "Not really. But then again, I haven't eaten since breakfast." 

Noctis pushes Prompto away and goes to scrounge through the fridge. He pulls out a container, shakes it, then lifts it above his head. His wings flare dramatically as he says in a low voice, " _Dumplings_." 

Prompto cackles. 

They chat and bicker on the couch, eating straight from the container while an Assassin's Creed Let's Play plays in the background. 

One of Noctis' responses get cut off by his own yawn and Prompto laughs before he too is overcome by the yawning bug. 

"Ugh. We should go to bed." Prompto sets the empty container onto the coffee table and stands. 

Noctis nods and lifts himself into a stretch. He grabs Prompto's wrist and drags him to the bedroom. 

Prompto flops forward onto the plush, round bed and sinks into it with a groan. Noctis snickers as he shuffles through his drawer for some pajamas. He grabs a pair of soft, plaid pants and boxers for himself and throws an open back tank top and a pair of sweats at Prompto. 

"I'm gonna shower real quick." 

Prompto gives a muffled, "Okay," from where he's started to pull off his hoodie without getting up. 

Noctis walks into the ensuite and dumps his clothes onto the counter. He leaves the door open a crack and quickly rids himself of his clothes. Maybe too quickly since there's a moment where his wings get caught in the loops of his shirt. 

He sets the water to hot and steps into the stream of it. He doesn't want to deal with wet wings, so he takes care to hold them out of the stream while he washes his hair and scrubs the day's sweat from his skin. 

He gets lost in thoughts. 

Thoughts of his father. 

The kingdom. 

The expectations. 

_Will I be ready for it?_

Noctis shakes out his wings as he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He dries off and dresses absentmindedly, flicks off the light as he walks back into the bedroom. 

Prompto holds up Noctis' phone. "Iggy says your dad is free tomorrow night." 

Noctis grimaces and sits next to Prompto on the plush bed. He groans. "So soon?" 

"Yep." 

Noctis takes his phone, texts Ignis back to confirm, then drops it on the nightstand. He lies down on his stomach in front of Prompto and shoves his wings in his face. 

Prompto sputters and pushes the wings away. "Really?" 

Noctis stares. 

"Fine, fine, you could just ask, you know. So _needy_ , geez." 

Noctis shuts his eyes as Prompto starts combing through his dark plumage, looking for crooked or loose feathers. The tugs and sifts are rhythmic and Noctis is on the edge of sleep by the time Prompto claps his hands together and declares he's done. 

Noctis draws his wings in and moves to lie on his side. He watches as Prompto grabs the few small feathers he'd pulled and sets them onto the nightstand next to his phone. 

Once Prompto's settled, Noctis reaches out to poke at his stomach through his loose tank top. "You want me to do you?" he asks softly. 

He's asked before, but Prompto always declines. Doesn't mean he's going to stop trying. 

Prompto tenses, forces a laugh. "Um… Not much to work with, buddy." 

Noctis frowns. "So?" 

Prompto is an open book and the conflict that wars on his face is clear. He sighs, asks, "Are you sure?" 

Noctis bites back a bright smile and the _finally_ that rings in his head and says, "Of course. Hundred percent." 

Some of the tension leaves Prompto as he turns to face the closest wall, his back on display through the open cut of the tank top. 

As comfortable as Prompto has become with their little group knowing of hissituation, he hasn't become as much with others actively acknowledging it. 

So this is the first time that Noctis gets to really _look_. 

Noctis grazes his hand over the long vertical scar on the left side. The sight tears at something primal deep in his chest and he bites his tongue to keep from doing— 

Doing _something_. 

He lingers on the scar before shifting his focus to the right where stark white feathers reside. He can only describe the wing as _short_ and the longer he looks, the more he comes to realize that it's _pinioned_. 

Everything in his body is screaming, red hot, but he chokes it down as he notices Prompto start to tremble. 

He releases a heavy breath and works on gently grooming Prompto's wing. The feathers give easily under his touch and Prompto's trembling fades with every brush of his fingers. 

He hums a soothing tune while he kneads and preens and the roaring fire in his chest settles to embers he can ignore. 

Noctis finishes with a caress that makes Prompto shiver and tosses the white feathers he'd pulled next to his own. 

The deep contrast between their feathers and the inherent melancholy in the sight of them squeezes the air from Noctis' lungs for reasons he can't understand. 

He gets knocked from his stupor when Prompto dives into the collection of plush pillows at the head of the bed and throws one at Noctis. 

Noctis' wings jerk and he sputters out, "Hey!" 

Prompto sits up and leans towards Noctis. "Come lay with me!" 

Noctis looks to the ceiling. "Why have the Astrals cursed me so?" 

That earns him a kick and he laughs as he crowds Prompto into the pillows in a tangle of limbs and mirth until they pass out. 

**Author's Note:**

>  _alis ad astra noctem_ : basically translates to "wings to the stars of the night" or "wings to the stars tonight"
> 
> for a better idea of what the chocobros wings look like:  
> -noctis: tree swallow  
> -prompto: mute swan  
> -ignis: brown lanner falcon  
> -gladio: golden eagle  
> bonus:  
> -regis: crow (similar to tree swallow but a lot duller because he’s an old man)  
> -luna: white dove  
> -ravus: black-winged kite
> 
> i solemnly believe that regis is loyal to the astrals, but hates them with a passion


End file.
